


How the Pitch (tried) to Steal Christmas

by Era_Penn



Category: Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, How the Grinch Stole Christmas! - Dr. Seuss, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Christmas, Crack, Fluff, Gen, Holiday, Oh goodness why, Ridiculousness, Someone help my brain, i don't know where this came from, i think, it exploded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Era_Penn/pseuds/Era_Penn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Retelling of How the Grinch Stole Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How the Pitch (tried) to Steal Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, I really don't, it just sort of happened, I can't believe I just wrote this.

Every Claus down in Claussen liked Christmas a lot…  
But the Pitch, who lived just north of Claussen, did NOT!  
The Pitch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!  
Now, please don’t ask why. Only nightmares know the reason.  
It could be his shadows didn’t let in the light.  
It could be, perhaps, that his robe was too tight.  
But I think that the most likely reason so stark,  
May have been that his heart was two shades too dark.

Whatever the reason, His heart or his robes,  
He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the Claus,  
Staring down from his cave with a sour, Pitchy frown,  
At the warm lighted windows below in their town.  
For he knew every Claus down in Claussen beneath,  
Was busy now, hanging a mistletoe wreath.  
“And they’re hanging their stockings!” he snarled with a sneer,  
“Tomorrow is Christmas! It’s practically here!”

Then he growled, with his Pitch fingers angrily drumming,  
“I MUST find some way to stop Christmas from coming!”  
For Tomorrow, he knew, all the Claus girls and boys,  
Would wake bright and early. They’d rush for their toys!  
And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the Noise!  
Noise! Noise! Noise!  
That’s one thing he hated! The NOISE!  
NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

Then the Claus, young and old, would sit down to a feast.  
And they’d feast! And they’d feast! And they’d FEAST!  
FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!  
They would feast on Claus-pudding, and rare Claus-roast beast.  
Which was something the Pitch couldn’t stand in the least!  
And THEN They’d do something He liked least of all!  
Every Claus down in Clausson, the tall and the small,  
Would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing.

They’d stand hand-in-hand. And the Claus would start singing!  
They’d sing! And they’d sing! And they’d SING!  
SING! SING! SING!  
And the more the Pitch thought of this Claus Christmas Sing,  
The more the Pitch thought, “I must stop this whole thing!”  
“Why for fifty-thousand years I’ve put up with it now!”  
“I MUST stop this Christmas from coming! But HOW?”  
Then he got an idea! and awful idea! 

THE PITCH GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!  
“I know just what to do!” the Pitch laughed in his throat.  
And he made a quick Santy Claus hat and a coat.  
And he chuckled, and clucked, “What a great Pitchy trick!”  
“With this coat and this hat, I look just like Saint Nick!”  
“All I need is a reindeer…” The Pitch looked around.  
But, since reindeer are scarce, there was none to be found.  
Did that stop the old Pitch? No! the Pitch simply said,

“If I can’t find a reindeer, I’ll make one instead!”  
So he called nightmare, Onyx. Then he took some red thread,  
And he tied a big horn on the top of her head.  
THEN he loaded some bags And some old empty sacks,  
On a ramshackle sleight And he hitched up Onyx.  
Then the Pitch said, “Giddap!” And the sleigh started down,  
Toward the homes where the Claus lay asnooze in their town.  
All their windows were dark. Gold sand filled the air. 

All the Claus were all dreaming sweet dreams without care.  
When he came to the first little house on the square.  
“This is stop number one,” the old Pitchy Claus hissed,  
And he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist.  
From there, I must say, the story hit a slight twist -  
For who should appear, but Jack Frost from the mist!  
He’d come to bring snow, for all Claus to wake  
To a white wondrous world and a frozen lake.

“Frost!” yelled the Pitch, wrath clear on his face,  
“Get out I say, This is my place!”  
Jack Frost laughed aloud, grinning with glee,  
And said, “Pitch, it is _you_ who should flee!”  
“Messing with Christmas, you’ve got some guts -”  
“And soon North will chase you right back to your huts!  
The golden sand glimmered and a small man appeared,  
Along with a kangaroo, one quite long-eared.

Beautiful fairies came forth from the snow,  
Colors so bright they set white aglow,  
And Pitch glared at them all with his typical sneer,  
Saying, “Christmas isn’t coming, not THIS year!”  
And with a thump and a bump and many a yell,  
The Big Man himself arrived with the sound of sleigh-bells.

Then they heard a small sound like a mouse.  
They all turned around, and saw a small Claus!  
Little Sophie Ben-Nett, who was not more than two.  
“Bunny!” she shrieked - and little Jamie, too.  
And they laughed, and they laughed, and Pitch glared and growled,  
“I am the Boogeyman! How dare you be loud!”  
“Um, Guardian of Joy here,” Jack said, slightly out of time,  
Because the author couldn’t think of a half-decent rhyme.

The villain was foiled and the kids back to bed,  
And down through the chimney slipped a Guardian Red,  
And on through the night Jack Frost spread a white Christmas  
But he was thinking and wondering with no little fuss.  
And when he flew past the Boogeyman’s lair,  
He left a small box, drifting down through the air.  
Saying, “It’s Christmas Eve, I suppose, after all.”  
“And even the bad guy deserves something small.”

And they claim Pitch’s heart lightened that day,  
Down in his palace of black and of gray,  
And who knows, but perhaps, far in the future,  
He could even lighten up to one Kozmotis Pitchner.  
“Merry Christmas to all,” Shouted North in delight,  
“And to all a good night!”  
This twisted tale now draws to an end  
And the Moon smiles down on his old friends.


End file.
